mack
Thirty-five days.
Needed to be around people, so I went to Ølhallen, the old beer hall in the Mack brewery building. Dark wood, a polar bear behind glass, a wall of taps. 98 kroner for half a litre. I had two.
Mack used to call itself the northernmost brewery in the world. A man at the bar told me they moved the brewing out to Nordkjosbotn a few years ago, which is further south, so now it isn't. He seemed pleased about this.
There was a group from Leeds at the next table, on day four of a northern lights holiday, no lights so far. They'd paid for three "aurora chases" in a minibus. One of them asked me if I'd seen them. I have, twice, from my back window, in my dressing gown, at three in the morning. I didn't say the dressing gown part.
I didn't tell anyone about the knocking. It's hard to say out loud in a pub.
Slept four hours last night. That counts as a good one now.